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STORIES FROM 
MANANA LAND 


BY 


MAY CARR HANLEY 



1922 

PRINTED IN U. S. A. 

Pacific Press Publishing Association 

Mountain View, California 

Kansas City, Mo. Portland, Ore. St. Paul, Minn. 

Brookfield, III. r Cristobal, c. z. 























Copyright 1922 by 
Pacific Press Publishing Assn. 


g>CI.A65468S 


FEB 17 1922 


""Vui? 


To the three children whose loving 
interest inspired these little 
stories, and to all boys 
and girls who love 
the great wide 
world 



Foreword 


Mexico is sometimes called our “sister re¬ 
public/’ and so I trust that the boys and 
girls who read this book will remember that 
the Mexican boys and girls are their brothers 
and sisters. 

The six years that I spent among your 
little dark-skinned neighbors taught me to 
love them and to love their land. I only 
wish that each of you could see them in their 
homes under the palms and by the river, and 
become acquainted with their many strange 
pets. 

But, as few of you can do so, I have told 
you of some of the pets my children had, and 
of the many strange sights we saw. 

Many of the children of Mexico have never 
heard the good news that Jesus is coming 
soon. If the stories I have told you awaken 
a desire in your hearts to study about other 
lands, and to devote your lives to spreading 
the glad gospel tidings, I shall be very happy. 

m. c. H. 


(?) 






























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CONTENTS 


In the Land of Manana.11 

On the King's Highway.15 

A Glad Welcome.17 

Chewing Gum.22 

The Mango.25 

A Visit to a Rubber Plantation.27 

The Birthday Orchids.32 

Fiber Plants of Mexico.36 

The Collole Palm.40 

El Santo Nino . -.45 

El Pito Real.48 

Armadillo.52 

Catching Bathtubs.56 

The Big Iguana.61 

How Mrs. Parrot Said “No”.65 

Keepsakes.69 

What Mother Left Her Friends .... 74 

On the Way.77 , 

Cochineal.84 

Ready for the Train ...86 

Homeward Bound.88 

The United States at Last.92 


( 9 ) 




















i 



Street Scene in the Land of Manana 


( 10 ) 
















Iii the Land of Manana 

“What was he saying, mother?” questioned 

Earl. 

“I do not know,” answered his mother; 
“all that I can remember is Manana, manana 
(pronounced ma-nya'na). I was trying to 
get him to bring our trunks from the station.” 

“But what does manana mean?” continued 
the questioner. 

“We shall have to go back to the sanitarium 
and ask,” said mother helplessly. 

Mother Wesley and her three children had 
come to Guadalajara, in the sunny land of 
Mexico, to be with Grandfather and Grand¬ 
mother Mack at the beautiful sanitarium 
there. 

“Are the people really talking?” asked Ber¬ 
nice doubtfully. “Look at that little baby 
listening to its mother, and — why, it is talk¬ 
ing, too!” she exclaimed. 

“Of course,” laughed mother; “they are 
talking Spanish, and they understand it just 
the same as you understand English.” 

“I believe that dog understands it, too!” 
said Bernice excitedly. 


(U) 


12 Stories from Manana Land 

“Certainly he does,” mother asserted with 
a smile; “and we must begin to study, so we 
too can understand it.” 

“Grandmother, what does manana mean?” 
were Earl’s first words when they reached the 
sanitarium. 

“Oh, you have found out already that you 
are in ‘the Land of Manana,’ ” laughed grand¬ 
mother. “It means to-morrow. No one is 
in a hurry here. What you want them to do, 
they will always promise to do to-morrow; 
and you know that to-morrow never comes. 
So Mexico is called ‘the Land of Manana.’ 

“You will find everything very strange 
here,” explained grandmother. “The people, 
their homes, the manners and customs, are 
so different from those in the land from which 
you came. Most of the people are, oh, so 
poor, and have very little to eat and wear. It 
is hard to help them; for some of them, in¬ 
stead of buying food or clothing with the 
money given them, will spend it for drink or 
tobacco. Even food or clothing, when given 
them, is oftentimes pawned. 

“Your grandfather and I took a walk one 
afternoon to the home of one of our workmen. 
He had told us that his child was sick, and I 


13 



In the Land of Manana 

had promised to go and see it. We walked 
through the pastures, with beautiful green 
fields stretching back to the woods on our 
left, while at our right flowed the quiet river. 

“The house was in a clump of bamboo, sur¬ 
rounded by bananas and other tropical fruit. 
It was made of long poles lashed together 
with vines. The roof was thatched. Some 
houses have grass roofs, and others have 
palm-leaf roofs. There is no need of win- 


Making Tortillas — A Thatched House in the Background 









14 Stories from Manana Land 

dows, for plenty of light comes through the 
cracks between the bamboo. 

“We found the one little room very clean. 
On one side of it, there were two rude beds 
made of mats; while on the other side, the 
mother was grinding corn to make tortillas. 
Tortillas are a sort of pancake usually made 
of corn meal. These she bakes over the open 
fire burning in one corner of the room. 

“The two-year-old sick baby was sitting on 
the earth floor, eating black beans and tor¬ 
tillas. Four half-clad little brothers were en¬ 
joying the same fare. We gave the mother 
the milk we had brought for the child, and 
talked with her about its care. We couldn’t 
help wondering where they all stayed when it 
rained, for there were seven persons who lived 
in this one little room. 

“Our Saviour died for these poor, ignorant 
people, as well as for us; and they must know 
it before He comes. Few can read or write; 
but in some way, they must be told of the love 
of Jesus for them.” 

Earl’s eyes were big when grandmother fin¬ 
ished her story. Down in his heart, he was 
glad that he was in “the Land of Manana”; 
and he determined to be a true missionary. 


On the King’s Highway 

Soon after Mrs. Wesley and her children, 
Earl, Bernice, and Baby Lucita, reached 
Mexico, grandfather and grandmother moved 
to a ranch in the state of Vera Cruz. Earl 
and Bernice were sent to a kindergarten, 
while mother taught a little Mexican girl, 
and took Lucita along. All went well until 
mother became very sick, and it was decided 
that she must go away to a hospital. And 
what about the children? — They must go to 
the country to stay with their grandparents. 

There was so much to see, and there were 
so many paths to explore, on the ranch, that 
they were not lonely for mother in the day¬ 
time; but, oh, the bedtime! Who could tell 
stories and talk to little boys and girls about 
living right, and make them see all the mis¬ 
takes of the day, just like mother? 

Away up in New Orleans, the sick mother 
lay in the hospital, thinking, always thinking, 
of her children so far away, and wondering 
if she would ever see them again. 

How precious to her were those dear let¬ 
ters Bernice wrote! “Don’t worry about Lu¬ 
cita, mamma, for I am her little mother now. 

( 15 ) 


16 Stories from Manana Land 

I wash her, comb her hair, and dress her, and 
I am teaching her to read. She can spell 
1-i-t-t-l-e so cute! When are you coming 
home?” 

Earl’s letters were full of farm talk — of 
the cows and the calves, the chickens and the 
pet deer. “Grandpa says if I save up money 
enough, I may buy a calf for my very own. 
I have been selling milk to Mr. Towne, and 
have some saved now. When are you coming 
home? We miss you.” 

Again and again were those dear words 
read—“We miss you.” “No one knows how 
I miss you, my children,” she thought. “I 
will write you often, but I shall do my best 
to get well and be with you again very soon, 
dear ones.” 

And so the weary months dragged by until 
mother did get well. With what joy she sent 
the letter telling her dear ones that she would 
soon be on the steamer bound once more for 
“the Land of Manana”! 


A Glad Welcome 


“Mother is coming home!” said Earl, in 
his grave, quiet way. 

“Yes,” said grandmother; and she read the 
letter again. 

“Oh, mother is coming home!” said happy 
Bernice, softly. 

“Mother is coming home!” sang little Lu- 
cita. 

“We must plan to have a comfortable room 
for her,” said grandfather. “She will be 
weak, for she has been ill so long.” 

How happy the three children were! Their 
mother had been in a hospital far away, for 
six months; and that is a long time to be with¬ 
out a mother. Of course, they were tenderly 
cared for by their grandmother and grand¬ 
father; but they had missed their mother. 

“Coming home at last! Grandmother, do 
you think the steamer will come in the night? 
’Cause if it does, I can’t go to bed, for I am 
so hungry to see my mother,” said Bernice 
earnestly. 

“No, dear,” reassured grandmother; “you 
may sleep to-night, for those big boats do not 
come into the harbor at night. So trot off to 

( 17 ) 


18 Stories from Manana Land 

dreamland. I have a little surprise for you 
to-morrow.” 

Early in the morning, Earl, Bernice, Lu- 
cita, and grandmother found themselves in a 
boat on their way to the bar. 

“Will my mother get off at the jetty?” 
asked Lucita. 

“No; but we are going to watch the boat 
enter the river, and we’ll wave at mother. 
She will not be looking for us, but I think 
she will recognize the crowd. Don’t you?” 
And grandmother looked proudly at her little 
family. 

“We are lots bigger, aren’t we, grandma?” 
said little Lucita. 

But already they were landing, and grand¬ 
mother led the way to the lighthouse, and was 
greeted by the keeper: (e Buenos dias, senora. 
So the chiqmtos have come?” 

“Yes, Juan.” Then, turning to the chil¬ 
dren with a laugh at their puzzled expressions, 
she explained: “This is my surprise, children. 
You have always wanted to go up in the 
lighthouse, and now we are going to climb the 
stairs.” 

Juan did not give them time to be sur¬ 
prised very long, but picked up Lucita and 


1 Glad Welcome 


19 


led the way upstairs. Around and around 
the sides of the tall building they went. Oc¬ 
casionally there was a landing, with a win¬ 
dow ; and they would sit down and rest. Toil¬ 
ing and puffing for breath, up and up they 
climbed — would they never reach the top? 

At last, they could see light at the top. 
The keeper helped them through an opening, 
and — there they were, on the top of the 
lighthouse, high in the air. A round platform 
with a railing gave them a small space on 
which they might move about and look over 
the land in all directions. 

“Oh, I feel as if I were on the tower of 
Babel, trying to climb into heaven!” panted 
Bernice. 

They watched Juan clean the huge revolv¬ 
ing lamp, and he explained how it turned by 
machinery. “Each lighthouse has a little dif¬ 
ferent light, or it turns differently,” he ex¬ 
plained. “The seamen know all these lights, 
and can tell at once where they are.” 

“Just as the light keeps them from danger, 
so God’s light saves us,” added grandmother 
softly. 

“The train is returning to town,” said 
grandmother after a moment. 


20 


Stories from Manana Land 

“Where? I don’t see any train,” said Earl, 
stretching his head as far over the rail as he 
could. 

“Right at our feet, away down,” said 
grandmother, pointing out the line of cars 
moving below them. “It looks about as large 
as your toy train; and those people running 

— how tiny they are!” 

“They look like clothespins to me. How 
can they have shrunk so?” questioned Bernice. 

“Juan, may we look through your field 
glasses?” they asked. Then he handed each 
one the glasses and let each take a long look. 
“Qne ves , Lucita?” he asked, as Lucita 
pointed them toward the sea. 

“What do I see? Why, nothing but water 

— water this way, and over there I see Tam¬ 
pico and the river and wharves and—” Juan 
gently swung her head toward the sea again, 
and steadied the glasses. “It is a boat coming 
in!” she exclaimed excitedly. 

“Yes; it is very likely to be the Norheim,” 
suggested Juan. 

“Let us hurry down. Mother is coming,” 
they shouted in a breath. 

“No hurry, for that boat is an hour’s travel 
away still,” reassured Juan. But in spite of 


A Glad Welcome 21 

all, they could hardly wait to reach the 
ground. 

The excitement of the children knew no 
bounds as they raced up and down the wet, 
smooth sand, and watched the Norheim steam 
closer and closer, splitting the blue water, and 
leaving a broad swath of foam in its track. 

Three children waved excitedly from the 
jetty, and a lonely woman on board answered 
them. 

Then the children took the train back to 
Tampico, and were waiting on the wharf 
when the steamer whistled. Mother is home 
again, and their hearts are filled with glad¬ 


ness. . 


Chewing Gum 

“Do you know where gum comes from?” 
asked mother of Earl, one day as she lay on 
the couch in the sitting room. “It has such 
an interesting journey before it is ready to 
keep so many mouths busy!” 

Earl was always ready for a story; and so, 
seating himself close to the invalid, he begged, 
“Please tell me.” 

“The kind of gum that is mostly used,” 
began mother, “is the sap of a tree. Forests 
of these trees are found all around here and 
even in Central America. This tree is a 
beautiful evergreen, with bright, glossy leaves, 
and it bears a delicious fruit. 

“The work of gathering the chicle, as the 
sap is called, is done by the natives. Thou¬ 
sands of them come together in the forests, 
build camps, tap the trees, and then gather 
the sap. 

“The way in which they get the sap from 
the trees is curious. A native fastens one end 
of a rope securely around his body, and the 
other end he throws around the tree. Grasp¬ 
ing this rope in his hands, he walks right up 
the tree. 

( 22 ) 


23 


Chewing Gum 

“Then, with his long knife, which he al¬ 
ways carries in his belt, he cuts into the tree 
as shown in this picture. In the last cut, he 
fastens a large leaf, which serves as a trough. 
The sap runs freely from one cut into an¬ 
other, and on into a large leaf or gourd that 
has been placed at the bottom of 
the tree. 

“In a few hours, the sap has all 
run out. The amount depends upon 
the size and age of the tree. 

“The milky sap is then placed over 
the fire in large kettles and boiled 
until it hardens. Then it is taken 
from the fire, and the cakes of pure, clean gum 
are shipped to the United States. Here there 
are large factories where it is prepared for 
sale, by being mixed with other materials, 
such as pepsin. 

“There is a great deal of money spent for 
chewing gum in the United States, more than 
is spent for some of the things people really 
need. 

“We all know, too, that chewing causes the 
saliva to flow more quickly. So much saliva 
is not needed except at mealtime, when it is 
mixed with our food. That is why chewing 



24 Stories from Manana Land 

gum a great deal is not a good thing for boys 
and girls. 

“And I hope my little boy would rather 
spend his nickels to send the gospel to the 
children of Mexico than to waste it on gum,” 
said mother as she finished the story. 



Harbor at Vera Cruz 








The Mango 

What interested the children and Mamma 
Wesley most were the many trees that they 
had to get acquainted with in their new home. 

“Oh, grandfather, what is that tall tree 
with the beautiful, glistening leaves and yel¬ 
low fruit?” said one of the children. 

“Why, that is the tree from which we get 
our delicious mangoes,” replied grandfather. 

“Now, children, while you sit down and eat 
these mangoes,- I will tell you something 
about how they grow,” said grandfather. 
“The fruit is kidney-shaped, and is of a bright 
yellow color, specked with brown. It tastes 
very much like a cling peach, and the seed is 
covered with tiny strings that look like cotton. 

“Suppose we planted this seed. In a short 
time, the tiny leaves would appear; and by 
the third year, we should have a tall, slim tree 
bearing fruit. These trees that you see here 
are wild. They must be very old, judging 
from their size.” 

“It does not seem possible that this tree 
ever was slim. See! I cannot reach nearly 
around it,” said brother as he stretched his 
arms about the large trunk. 


( 25 ) 


26 


Stones from Manana Land 


“Bring the tapeline and let us measure-it,” 
suggested grandfather. “Ah, it is larger than 
I thought — nine feet around, and that would 
be nearly three feet through. 

“The mango tree stays green all the year 
around,” he continued. “Isn’t it a beautiful 
sight, with its golden fruit hanging so thickly 
among the dark green leaves? Surely it is 
one that should cause us to pause and think 
of the glory and power of God.” 

“Do mangoes grow in the United States?” 
asked sister. 

“In a few small sections only, as frost would 
kill them. But come, the sun has set; let us 
return to the house, and to-morrow we will 
go to see a rubber grove.” 



A Street Scene in Mexico 




A Visit to a Rubber Plantation 


The children were all up bright and early, 
ready for the promised visit to a rubber plan¬ 
tation. The morning was clear and beautiful, 
and the birds were merrily singing praises to 
their loving Creator. 

It was not far to go, as the rubber trees 
were on a neighbor’s place. No doubt it 
seems strange to you to think of going to a 
neighbor’s in a rowboat; but that was the 
most convenient way, because all the houses 
were on the bank of the river. 

As they were skimming along over the 
smooth surface of the water, grandfather 
asked, “Now, children, from what do most 
trees grow?” 

“From seed.” 

“Yes; then let us first see how the seed of 
the rubber is planted. The ground is plowed, 
and the seed is planted in rows like fruit tree 
seeds, and cultivated until large enough to 
transplant. Then the young trees are set out 
like any other orchard.” 

“Well,” said Lucita, “I would like to see 
where the rubbers grow.” 


( 27 ) 


28 


Stories from Manana Land 

“Rubbers! Why, all of these little trees 
on the bank of the river are rubber trees,” 
answered grandfather with a smile. 

“Oh, I mean the kind we wear on our feet 
when it is muddy,” she persisted. 


HEVEA- LEAVES w NUTS 



“It is a big step, little girl, from these trees 
to the rubber shoes you wear,” explained 
grandfather; “but the shoes are made of rub¬ 
ber obtained from this same kind of trees.” 





A Visit to a Rubber Plantation 29 

“Tell us how they get rubber from trees. 
Does it come from the leaves, or from the 
fruit? Or is it the bark that is so stretchy?” 
asked Earl. 

“No,” answered grandfather; “the trees are 
slashed with a knife, or machete, much the 
same as the zapote tree is cut for the sap from 
which chewing gum is made. The sap runs 
into kettles. Then a large fire is made, and 
a big paddle is dipped into the sap and held 
over the smoke. The sap quickly hardens, 
and again the paddle is dipped into the liquid 
and held over the fire. This is done until 
there is a big lump of rubber on the paddle. 
This rubber is shipped to the factories, where 
it is made into rubber goods. Perhaps other 
ways are used in some places, for this seems 
very slow and tedious. The work is all done 
by Indians, who go in bands from one plan¬ 
tation to another and camp out.” 

The children soon moored their boat at the 
landing, and walked up the shady path to the 
rows of bearing trees. 

“What large leaves! Each one is longer 
than I am tall,” said Earl. 

“You see this is really a limb with large 
leaves attached in pairs the length of it,” ex- 



Trees are slashed with a knife, much the same 
as the zapote tree is cut for sap from which 
chewing gum is made. 


( 30 ) 








A Visit to a Rubber Plantation 31 

plained grandfather. “Let us pick off a piece 
of sap that has dried on the bark. Isn’t that 
stretchy?” He handed a little to each child. 

“Generally the trees are not tapped until 
about six years old,” he said; “and each should 
give at least one pound of rubber a year for 
twenty-five or thirty years. Some give much 
more. The rubber tree grows wild. Some 
measure seven feet around.” 

Grandfather and his little charges walked 
through the groves of spreading trees, and 
through the nursery of tiny plants, and be¬ 
yond into the wild forest draped with bright 
running vines, until they were tired and were 
glad to return home. Earl expressed what 
was in the minds of all as he said reverently, 
“Just think how many wonderful things God 
has provided for us!” 






The Birthday Orchids 

“Such a beautiful, sunny day this is!” called 
grandfather from the foot of the stairs. “All 
the birdies are singing their praises to God. 
Jump up, children!” 

Now wouldn’t you get up quickly and hap¬ 
pily if you were awakened like that? Of 
course you would; and so did Earl and Ber¬ 
nice and even little Lucita. 

“Come here, dear,” said grandfather to 
Bernice. “I must give you a birthday kiss.” 

“Why, this is my birthday!” exclaimed the 
ha PPy g irl - 

Then there was a merry scramble to give 
her eight birthdays and “one to grow on.” 

“We shall have your birthday dinner in the 
arbor to-day,” said grandmother. “Won’t 
that be a treat?” 

“Yes, indeed! You must let us set the 
table, too. We’d love to do it, and we can 
save you and mother so many steps,” replied 
Bernice happily, for she never missed a chance 
of being helpful. 

“I must ride up in the woods this afternoon, 
to see about the fences. I wonder if a good 
(32) 



The Birthday Orchids 33 

little girl eight years old would like to go with 
me,” said grandfather. 

“Oh, grandfather, do you really mean me? 
I have always wanted to go back there in the 
woods. But doesn’t brother want to go?” 

“No doubt he does. He always likes to go. 
I have invited you, though, this time,” in¬ 
sisted grandfather, with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Oh, I am so glad! I’ll see the wild fruits 
and those gay flowers. I’ll bring you some, 
too, wee sister,” said she, as she noticed the 
sober face of her sister. Then she added, 
“Maybe you want to go; do you?” 

“Of course I want to go. Grandfather 
takes me lots of times; and of course I can 
hold on, too,” bragged Lucita. 


Humboldt’s Cypress, the Largest Tree in Mexico 






34 Stories from Manana Land 

“All right, you go. You can bring me 
some flowers,” replied the unselfish little girl. 
Grandfather and grandmother and mother ex¬ 
changed glances. 

“It is always that way. She gives up her 
pleasure to others every time,” said mother to 
her mother in a low tone;- but she looked 
pleased, nevertheless. Then to Bernice she 
added, “No, no, this is your birthday treat, 
dear, and you must go with grandfather.” 

. “Yes; we must be off, too,, if we get back 
out of the woods before dark. I’ll saddle up 
Flora, and you may have Jess to ride.”. 

It wasn’t long until both horses were ready 
and Bernice was scrambling to Jess’s back. 
Then away they went toward the woods and 
the big pasture; and such a jolly time as they 
had! 

When they returned in the evening, Ber¬ 
nice had much to tell the dear stay-at-homes. 
She told them about the birds and the wild 
fruit and the flowers that she had seen. She 
brought back some of the flowers with her. 
She carried one bunch very carefully in her 
hand, and handed it to mother before she 
slipped down from old Jess. 


3 5 


The Birthday Orchids 

“They are orchids,” she explained, “and 
grandfather says they are parasites.” 

“What’s that?” asked brother. 

“A parasite is anything that lives upon an¬ 
other,” answered grandfather. “There are 
persons that do not want to work, but expect 
the world to give them a living. They are 
parasites. There are animal parasites, too, 
those which live upon other animals. The 
plant of this beautiful flower lives upon a 
tree. The mistletoe also is a parasite, and it 
does great harm by stealing the nourishment 
from the tree. We do not want to be para¬ 
sites, do we, children?” he asked. “We want 
to be unselfish and work for others. If we 
lean upon others for our happiness, we won’t 
find it. Happiness in this life comes from 
making others happy. Don’t you think so?” 

And they all agreed with grandfather. 



Adobe houses are made from 
mud bricks. 



Fiber Plants of Mexico 


“Earl, bring me a needle and thread to 
sew up this sack,” called grandfather. 

“All right!” answered Earl, as he ran to¬ 
ward the house. 

“Wait! There is one already threaded 
under the aguacate tree.” 

Several pairs of bright eyes searched, but 
no needle and thread could they see. Grand¬ 
father laughed, and went to a plant like the 
one in the picture; and catching hold of the 
large thorn at the point of a leaf, he gave it 
a little twist to loosen it. Then he pulled out 
the thorn, with a long, strong string attached, 
and with these he proceeded to sew up the 
sack. 

“This plant is one of the most wonderful 
of the tropics,” said grandfather. “Come, let 
us sit on this mat in the shade, and I will 
tell you about this great fiber plant.” 

“There are several varieties, as the zapupe, 
sisal, and henequen. This fiber is used to 
make rope, twine, sacks, hand bags, brushes, 
and all kinds of cordage, from the very finest 
threads to the coarsest ropes. The mat you 
are sitting upon is made of zapupe fiber.” 

(36) 



(37) 



38 Stones from Manana Land 

“How do they prepare these thick, fleshy 
leaves to make fine thread and fibers? I can 
easily see how they can use cotton or wool in 
making clothing, but this plant is so juicy,” 
said Bernice. 

“That is quite a story,” began grandfather. 
“The leaves are cut about every three months. 
The sharp thorns are cut off; and then the 
leaves are placed in bundles of fifty and car¬ 
ried to the cleaning shed. The cleaning of 
the leaves is a simple operation. They are 
run through a machine shredder, which will 
handle about twenty thousand of them an 
hour with the help of three men. The fiber is 
then allowed to dry thoroughly in the sun, 
after which it is ready for shipment. By 
machinery, each fiber is divided into one hun¬ 
dred parts, or threads, bringing out all of its 
beautiful softness. The fabric made of it re¬ 
sembles silk, but is far more durable, being 
wiry and strong.” 

“How are these fiber plants propagated?” 
asked mother; “and can we set out some?” 

“Each year, while the plant is bearing 
leaves, six or seven sprouts, or suckers, spring 
from the root; and these can be cut and set 
out between the rows. 


Fiber Plants of Mexico 39 

“Another interesting thing about this plant 
is the sprouting of a long stem, often twenty 
feet high. This stem bears a large cluster, 
yielding from one thousand to two thousand 
five hundred complete little plants, which 
drop off and are also set out. You may 
know that the plant has almost finished its 
life work when this happens, for it soon dies. 
But it has yielded enough little plants to 
plant a large field. The life of a fiber plant 
is about fifteen years. The Indians use the 
fiber in making ropes, lariats, and fish nets. 
Millions of dollars are earned yearly by the 
sale of fiber plants.” 



Clumsy two-wheeled carts drawn by slow- 
going oxen are used. 



The Collole Palm 


At dinner one day, grandmother was talk¬ 
ing about the many beautiful flowers to be 
found in Mexico, and of how easy it was to 
study botany here, because the plants and the 
blossoms are so large, and the parts are easily 
seen and examined. 

“Have you observed the blossom on the 
palm by the mango trees, the one with the 
fan-shaped leaves?’’ asked grandfather. 

“Yes,” answered the children. “It has so 
many thorns, we could not get very close; 
but we noticed how sweet it smelled.” 

After dinner, the children saw grandfather 
take down his machete, a huge knife that all 
Mexicans carry, and go down the path to¬ 
ward the palms. Presently he returned with 
a palm blossom. “Oh, oh! What a beauty! 
How lovely!” they chorused. 

It was three feet long, and the main stem 
was thickly studded with brown thorns at the 
base. Below hung at least one hundred and 
fifty long spikes from six to ten inches in 
length, of a bright yellow color. 

When they came to look at it closely, they 
found that each of these spikelike flowers 
(40) 


The Collole Palm 


41 


was really many, many tiny flowers, each one 
perfect in itself. 

From some of the lower ones, the petals 
had dropped off, and only the seed boxes re¬ 
mained. 

“This is the fruit or nut of the palm that 
the natives call collole (co-yo'la),” explained 
grandfather. “They grow about the size of 
a walnut, and are exactly like tiny coconuts, 
with the outer fibrous husk and the inside 
hard shell. The meat tastes like the coconut, 
too, and is quite oily. In some parts of the 
republic, one can buy them shelled, twelve 
nuts for a cent, Mexican money; and the na¬ 
tives are very fond of them, though they will 
not use them for cooking purposes, because 
they always use lard. We grind them in the 
nut mill and use them for oil, throwing away 
the woody pulp.” 

“Let us put the blossom in the hall,” sug¬ 
gested mother. “It is a real ornament, and 
will make the whole house fragrant.” 

“But we haven’t a vase large enough to 
hold it,” exclaimed the puzzled Lucita. 

“No, indeed!” agreed grandfather; “but 
we can hang it up by a stout cord.” And so 
the blossom still hung there the next day, 


42 Stones from Manana Land 

when the children heard a queer noise outside 
the house. 

“What is that noise ?” asked mother. It 
didn’t take long for the youngsters to hurry 
into the corridor to see what was causing 
it. Grandfather and his workmen had been 
out in the fields and had brought in a large 
load of straight palm leaves. The pony was 
puffing and panting, for it had dragged them 
in by a rope attached to the saddle horn. 

“Oh, what a huge pile of 
leaves! What are you go¬ 
ing to do with them, grand¬ 
father?” asked Bernice. 

“I am going to reroof the 
storeroom with them. You 
see, all of them are over 
eighteen feet long, and will 
shed water well. But here 
is a dainty bud that I 
brought in for you to 
study.” 

“Dainty!” echoed the 
children, as grandfather un¬ 
tied from the saddle horn 
the great bud of the collole 
palm. 



Collole Palm 


The Collole Palm 


43 


It was four feet long, and eighteen inches 
in circumference in the middle, tapering to a 
point at each end. It was smooth and shiny, 
and of a dark green color. 

“Do let us see what is inside of it,” begged 
Lucita; but when she attempted to lift it, she 
exclaimed, “Oh, how heavy!” 

“Indeed, it is heavy; it weighs about one 
hundred pounds,” said grandfather. Then 
he took the machete and opened the hard 
covering, or case. 

“See, there is the blossom just as I showed 
you yesterday, only this one has not been ex¬ 
posed to the air and sunlight, and so is white 
yet. If left on the tree, a bud opens under¬ 
neath and spreads out over the blossom 
(which is really made of baby collole nuts), 
to protect it.” 

“May I have the blossom’s cradle for my 
dolly’s bed?” asked Bernice. 

“What a fine cradle that will make for 
Miss Rosa! But I think it is large enough 
to hold half a dozen dollies,” laughed mother. 



(44) 








El Santo Nino 


“I wish you could have heard the Mexicans, 
Earl, when they were making so much noise,” 
said Bernice. 

“When?” asked Earl. 

“Oh, yesterday while you were out in the 
woods with grandfather. Tell him about it, 
grandmother,” exclaimed Bernice. 

Then grandmother explained: “Yesterday 
we heard some music; and looking out on the 
river, we saw the procession of the Santo 
Nino. Two large cedar canoes were tied to¬ 
gether, and there was a man in the bow and 
one in the stern of each boat, paddling. 

“One canoe was filled with men playing 
several kinds of musical instruments, and it 
also carried one man who was loading and 
firing a gun. 

“The other canoe was filled to overflowing 
with women, and each woman had a bright- 
colored paper flag flying in the breeze. In 
the center of this boat, seated in a small chair, 
was a large doll dressed in pink and wearing 
a little straw hat. 

“You see,” she continued, “sometimes, 
when natives are sick or in trouble, they 

(45) 


46 Stones from Manana Land 

promise that if they recover or are delivered 
from their affliction, they will bring el Santo 
Nino, or ‘the Holy Child,’ to their house, and 
hold services. 

“Well, they took this doll, or image, to the 
house of one of the workmen on a neighbor¬ 
ing ranch. Then they fired the gun again 
and again, which is an invitation for all to 
gather to the feast; and before long, there was 
a large crowd. 

“An altar was set up, with the image upon 
it, and candles were burned in front of it. 
Some of the people knelt in front of the altar, 
and gave thanks to the child for preserving 
their lives; and they all dropped money in a 
basket fastened to the outstretched arms of 
the image. Others sat in the doorway gam¬ 
bling, while outside the people danced and 
passed around strong drinks. These gather¬ 
ings often end in a fight. 

“To-day the same crowd carried the doll 
back to the place where it is kept—a few 
miles below us on the river. 

“These poor people do not seem to know 
why they worship these images; and when 
questioned about it, they generally shrug their 
shoulders and say, ‘We do not know; it is the 


El Santo Nino 


47 


custom.’ There is great need for some one 
to tell them of the love of our Saviour; and 
when we see people worshiping they know not 
what, we remember that God has said, ‘Study 
to show thyself approved unto God, a work¬ 
man that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly 
dividing the word of truth,’ and, ‘Be ready 
always to give an answer to every man that 
asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you 
with meekness and fear.’ 

“We should have our minds filled with the 
precious truths of the Bible, and always be 
ready to tell others of the love of Christ.” 



One of the very old churches of Mexico going 
into decay. 




El Pito Real 


“Come here quickly, children!” Grand¬ 
father stepped quietly to the door and called 
the children in a low tone. They did not 
need a second bidding, but followed him out, 
and looked up where he was pointing to the 
top of a mango tree. 

As Lucita caught sight of the bright feath¬ 
ers, she whispered, “Why, they are parrots!” 

The children could not understand why 
grandfather had called them away from their 
studies to show them a flock of parrots; for 
in tropical Mexico, parrots are as common as 
crows or quails in the United States. They 
fly over in bands, and pull up the corn and 
destroy the crops. People are often awak¬ 
ened at dawn by their shrill “waw-waw, 
squeak-squak.” 

“Now look!” said grandfather. With a 
great ado, the birds flew to another tree, and 
the children saw them clearly this time. They 
were about the size of a half-grown chicken, 
but the most curious thing about them was 
their big beaks. It seemed as though the 
birds would surely topple forward and fall 
to the ground under such a weight. 

( 48 ) 


El Pito Peal 


49 


“I should think those great bills would give 
them a headache,” said Earl. “Why, a heavy 
Mexican sombrero makes my head and neck 
tired.” A Mexican sombrero is a wide- 
brimmed hat with a pointed crown. Very 
often they are big and heavy, and so no won- 



4 







50 Stories from Manana Land 

der they tired Earl’s head and neck. “But 
fancy carrying about that weight all day and 
sleeping with it at night!” he confided. 

“There comes Juan, the hired man, and he 
has shot one,” said grandfather. “Let us look 
at it carefully. What do you call it, Juan?” 

“El into real , senor” 

“Oh, the royal piper, is it? Well, he is 
dressed up in bright colors. See, the neck is 
orange; up to the point of the wings, the body 
is black; the wings are tipped with red, and 
the breast is red too; the tail is black, with 
two orange-colored feathers running down 
each side; on the back, near the tail, is a 
splash of light orange with a red half-moon 
on it.” 

But the great beak was the most interesting 
part. It was six inches long and two inches 
wide, marked in all bright colors. This queer 
bird also had a very slender, long, feathery 
tongue. 

“Grandfather, what can it use this kind of 
tongue for?” asked Earl. 

“I think they must be made thus to draw 
insects out of their hiding places. What do 
they feed on, Juan?” 


El Pito Beal 


51 


“On fruits and insects, senor. Do you 
wish the bill? I am going to take the bird 
home to eat.” 

“Yes, do leave us the beak,” chorused the 
children. 

So Juan took his knife and cut the bill off 
as easily as I would cut paper; and — would 
you believe me? — it was as light as a feather. 
The outer shell was no thicker than the paper 
I am writing on, and the whole inside was 
composed of a great many cells with very 
thin walls and wide spaces. But in spite of 
the way they are made, the bills are very 
strong, and their owners use them with a 
good deal of force; so the children decided 
not to try to capture a royal piper alive. 
However, Mr. Piper will never have a head¬ 
ache because of carrying his beak around. 



A Mexican Home 



Armadillo 


“Call mother, girls, and come down to the 
river. The Towne boys are calling for us. 
They seem to have something to show us,” 
called brother early one spring morning. 

Off skipped the girls, while mother and 
Aunt Gertrude, mother’s sister who had come 
to visit the folks on the farm, followed not 
far behind. When they reached the river, 
the long, narrow cedar canoe of the nearest 
neighbor was tied at the wharf, and the 
boys, James and John, were holding a very 
peculiar-looking animal by the tail. 

“Pray tell, lads, what do you call your 
captive?” questioned mother. 

“It is an armadillo.” 

“Hold it up, James, so we can get a good 
view of it,” replied mother, interested at once. 

Catching it firmly by the tail, James swung 
it to the bank, making the children run to 
escape the splash of water, and even mother 
stepped back to keep from getting wet. 

The creature was three feet in length, cov¬ 
ered with a shell, a sort of armor, which is 
one of the most remarkable suits to be found 
in all the world. It is composed of tiny bone 
( 52 ) 


Armadillo 


53 


plates all fitted closely together, yet the ani¬ 
mal was able to bend any part of its body. 

Its head looked like that of a pig, and 
also had a bone covering. It had a long, 



The armadillo, which has a most remarkable suit, com¬ 
posed of tiny bone plates all fitted closely together. 


straight tail, large at the body and tapering 
to a point, the whole length covered with the 
scaly shell. 

“Mr. Armadillo evidently does not enjoy 
our company, for he is backing into his 
house,” laughed Aunt Gertrude. 


54 Stories from Manana Land 

Sure enough, there was nothing to be seen 
of the animal but the huge grayish shell. The 
head, the tail, and the feet were drawn in, and 
it was as quiet as an opossum. 

Just then they all looked up at a passing 
canoe; and quick as a flash, the armadillo 
slid off the bank and into the water. But 
James was as quick as it was. He sprang 
into the canoe, and caught it as it swam past. 

Then followed a tug of war. John ran 
to help his brother; and only by their united 
efforts were they able to pull it in again. 

“How did you catch it?” asked sister. 

“We were hunting in the woods, and the 
dogs found it,” replied James. “When we 
reached the place, the armadillo was rolled 
up in a ball, pretending to be asleep. We 
put it into a sack and brought it to the boat. 
On the river bank, we found a burrow of 
another one — you know they live in the 
ground. We dug that one out; but it was 
too spry for us, and it got away.” 

“Do be careful, brother; that creature will 
bite you,” cautioned Bernice. 

“You need not fear, ma’am,” said John, 
“for armadillos are perfectly harmless. In 
fact, they have no teeth in front, and their 


Armadillo 


55 


back teeth are small and frail. They live on 
fruits, insects, snails, and mice. Some say 
they dig out ants and eat them, though I 
cannot be sure of that.” 

“What do you intend doing with your 
prize?” queried the children, who, after a 
whispering among themselves, had decided 
that perhaps mother might be persuaded to 
let them have a pet armadillo. 

“I suppose we shall give it to a native. 
The natives eat them, and consider them a 
choice dainty in spite of their dirty food,” 
answered James. “We must be going now. 
Let us put the armadillo back into the sack.” 

But this was easier said than done, as the 
animal refused to go back. It kicked with 
such powerful blows that the boys were con¬ 
tent to let it squat in the bottom of the canoe, 
while one of them kept a firm hold on the 
tail. 

A short time after, they sent grandmother 
the- shell of the poor armadillo, nicely pol¬ 
ished; and it now hangs on the wall of the 
sola, or sitting room, and serves as a paper 
rack, noticed and admired by all. 


Catching Bathtubs 

“Did you ever see an armadillo the size of 
the one in this picture, grandmother ?” asked 
Lucita, as she pointed to a picture in grand¬ 
father’s large animal book. 

“No; but they say this armadillo lived 
many, many years ago, perhaps before the 
Flood,” replied grandmother. 

“The shell that you have would hardly 
make a suit for this creature, would it?” 

“Possibly for a puppy,” laughed grand¬ 
mother. “No doubt you would scarcely be¬ 
lieve me if I should tell you about some of 
the large animals I have seen here in Mexico. 
What would you say about a turtle so large 
that it could not be put flat down into a 
wagon box?” 

“A turtle? Why, I carried one in my 
pocket last summer! Do tell us about the 
big ones you have seen,” begged Lucita, in¬ 
terested at once. 

“How you do enjoy hearing about the ani¬ 
mals of this land! But that is the way to 
learn. A number of years ago my Mexican 
servant called me one morning, and said: ‘The 
men have caught a turtle. Now they’ll feel 
( 56 ) 



The turtle whose 


shell is used 
natives. 


for a bathtub 


by the 


( 57 ) 

















58 Stories from Manana Land 

repaid for their nights of hunting, for one 
turtle will feed them many days!’ 

“‘Eat a turtle!’ I exclaimed. 

“‘Oh, yes, they eat them! The flesh is 
quite as good as that of a chicken,’ she an¬ 
swered. 

“Just to see what was causing so much ex¬ 
citement, the children and I went down to 
the lake shore, where a large canoe was com¬ 
ing in to the little wharf in front of our 
house. There we saw the turtle. We could 
well believe Juana’s statement then. The 
turtle was so large that the strength of many 
men was required to lift it from the boat to 
the wharf. 

“ ‘Do tell us how you captured this huge 
creature,’ I said to the men. 

“Pedro took off his large sombrero, and 
fanned himself as he talked, only too glad 
for a chance to rest after his task of paddling 
the canoe across the lake. 

“‘At this season of the year,’ he said, ‘the 
turtles are laying their eggs in the warm sand 
on the seashore. At night, they scoop out a 
place in the sand, lay their eggs, cover them 
lightly with sand, and leave them to be 


Catching Bathtubs 59 

hatched by the warmth of the sun. We hide 
behind a bush or a pile of rocks until a 
turtle comes out on the sand to make its 
nest. When it is close, we rush out and 
grab the turtle by the heavy shell, and try 
to throw it on its back. Sometimes we fail; 
and then we lose our turtle, for it quickly 
scrambles out of our reach into the water. 
But if we succeed in upsetting our victim, it 
is helpless. A large one like this can never 
turn itself back, so we have it at our mercy.’ 

“ ‘Pedro, I want to buy this shell,’ broke 
in a native woman. ‘Every family in this 
village has a nice turtle shell bathtub except 
me, and I want this one.’ 

“‘It is well. You shall have it. Your 
bathtub will be plenty big enough.’ 

“We laughed as we thought of bathing in 
that shell, though it was surely large enough. 
It was as long as our bathtubs, and nearly as 
wide as it was long. 

“In a few hours, the men were peddling 
the meat from house to house. They had a 
washtub full of eggs. How would you like 
to gather the eggs each evening, if each hen 
laid a tub of eggs? 


60 Stories from Manana Land 

“My servant, Juana, bought some of the 
eggs; but they did not look very good to eat, 
for the whites remained clear and soft, no 
matter how long they were cooked. How 
many strange animals there are in this great 
world of ours!” 





The Big Iguana 

“There is the iguana,” said grandmother, 
as Lucita turned another page of the animal 
book. “Did you ever hear of them?” 

“Grandmother, before you begin to tell us 
about that,” said Bernice earnestly, “won’t 
you please tell us how the little baby turtles 
are cared for when they are hatched by the 
warmth of the sun? If one mother turtle lays 
a tub of eggs, she would have a big family 
of babies to care for, wouldn’t she?” 

“Yes, indeed, if she cared for them; but 
she doesn’t,” grandmother explained. “They 
are left to shift for themselves. The men say 
that you can see a baby turtle digging its way 
out of the sand. Away it goes for the water. 
That is their nature.” 

“Will you tell us about that other queer 
animal now?” questioned Earl. “I cannot 
remember the name.” 

“The iguana? It is not a handsome crea¬ 
ture. Indeed, I think it very ugly. It is a 
great lizard, and grows to be five feet long 
or more. We used to go to town on the river. 
The banks were covered with ferns, vines, and 
flowers; but wherever there was a high, bare 

( 61 ) 


62 Stories f rom Manana Land 

bank or cliff, we could see the homes of the 
iguanas. They like to sun themselves; and 
as our boat slipped noiselessly through the 
water, we could see the huge iguanas stretched 
out in the openings of their caves, basking in 



The Iguana 


the sun. If they heard 11 s, they would rise on 
their front feet as high as they could, but 
keep the rest of their bodies very close to the 
ground; and then they would watch us closely 
with their beady eyes. As long as we were in 
sight, they would continue to look. 










68 


The Big Iguana 

“The head of the iguana is covered with 
scaly plates; and there is a crest of long, 
slender scales along the back. The crest is 
high at the head, and gradually grows shorter 
toward the tail. I have read that the iguanas 
have another peculiarity of the lizard. That 
is, if you catch one by its tail, you are likely 
to see the iguana hurrying away without the 
tail, which you still hold in your hand.” 

“Ugh! Were you not afraid of them?” 
asked Lucita. 

“No; they are harmless unless wounded. 
A very queer thing about them is their power 
to change their color to protect themselves. 
In some countries, they live in trees, and are 
green, like the leaves. It is said that when 
afraid or angry, they change their color in¬ 
stantly into a dark brown or even black. The 
Mexican iguanas live on the ground, so they 
are a brownish color, and it is hard to tell 
them from the ground on which they lie. 
They are quite clumsy, though, and are easily 
caught in traps or a noose.” 

“Why do people want to catch them, grand¬ 
mother?” questioned Earl. 

“The people eat them, and regard them as 
a great treat. I knew a woman who ate what 



64 Stories from Manana Land 

she thought was a chicken pie, at a hotel; and 
when she praised the dish, she was told that 
the meat she had eaten was iguana. 

“I have never heard of the iguanas’ doing 
any harm to crops. They live on grasses and 
herbs.” 

“My! Won’t we have some interesting 
things to tell our friends in the United States 
— if we ever go back!” exclaimed Bernice. 


Burden-Bearers 







How Mrs. Parrot Said “No” 

“Do we really have to leave Mexico, moth¬ 
er?” questioned Earl anxiously. 

“Yes, I fear so, my son. Sister is in very 
poor health, and the doctors believe that a 
change of climate will do her good.” 

“I have so much that I care for here!” said 
Earl sorrowfully. “I know I must leave my 
burro and the goat, but perhaps I can get — 
oh, I know!” he exclaimed earnestly. “I 
found a parrot’s nest yesterday! Maybe we 
can get a baby bird to tame and take back to 
the States with us. If we leave to-morrow, 
this may be the last pet that I can find to take 
with me; and you know I promised Hal that 
I’d bring him a pet from Mexico.” 

Mother smiled as she thought of the great 
collection of pets he had captured that sum¬ 
mer to take “to the States” with him — squir¬ 
rels, bats, turtles, armadillos, a chameleon, 
and odd birds and butterflies. But they had 
either escaped or had not lived after they 
were caught, and there was not a single pet 
ready to take back. And now they were 
planning to begin their return trip the next 
day, so Earl had but a short time to find a 

( 65 ) 


66 


Stories from Manana Land 


pet. Mother, sister, and grandmother, put 
on their big Mexican sombreros, and followed 
the eager boy to the pasture down by the 
river. 



The way Earl expected to carry a parrot back to the 
States with him. 


“There goes the mother parrot now,” called 
brother, pointing to a bird circling over our 
heads. “If there are only eggs in the nest, 
of course I won’t touch them, and she will 
never know the difference. Do you see that 
tall coconut palm tree? Now look up the 
trunk and you will see an opening. That is 


How Mrs. Parrot Said “No” 


67 


where the nest is, for I saw Madam Parrot 
fly out of that hole.” 

“Yes, I see it,” said mother; “but how can 
you ever get up to the nest? The trunk of 
the coconut tree is perfectly smooth, and that 
opening is at least fifteen feet from the 
ground.” 

“May I try to climb the way the natives 
do? They tie a rope loosely around the tree 
and themselves, and then walk up the tree, 
leaning against the rope.” 

“I have seen them do it,” returned mother; 
“but American boys are not trained to do 
such climbing from their babyhood, as the 
Mexicans are. The Mexicans use their feet 
and toes almost like hooks. I remember that 
long ago, we came in on a small boat, and 
landed on the island where the lighthouse is. 
We were all very hungry, but the old light¬ 
house keeper said he had nothing to offer us 
except nuts. He waved his hand toward the 
coconut grove that covers the tiny island, and 
said to help ourselves. The men in our crowd 
walked about, wondering how we could get 
the coconuts. A few tried to get some down 
by throwing sticks, but they failed to reach 
halfway. Finally the little grandson of the 


68 Stories from Manana Land 

old lighthouse keeper came out and offered 
to get some nuts for us. He was no larger 
than you, Earl; but how he did scramble up 
that tree! We had to run for shelter then, 
for the coconuts began to tumble down when 
he reached the top of the tree.” 

Brother was disappointed that mother was 
afraid to let him climb as the little boy had 
done. Then he spied a long bamboo pole. 
“Oh, mother, here’s a ladder — a real Mexi¬ 
can ladder!” he called. 

All helped to place the pole against the 
trunk of the coconut tree, and then to hold it 
as firmly as the three of them could, while 
brother climbed up on it by easy steps, at the 
same time telling them what he was going 
to do with his parrot. 

When he reached the top of the ladder, 
with a glance of triumph downward into the 
faces below him, he put his hand into the 
opening. Out popped Mrs. Parrot’s bright 
head and sharp beak. 

Brother’s eyes grew big, and he quickly 
backed down the ladder. Any one acquainted 
with the sharp, crooked beak of a parrot, will 
know why he did not take a baby parrot home 
with him. 


Keepsakes 

When the Mexicans heard that their be¬ 
loved friends, Mother Wesley and her three 
children, were about to leave for their tierra, 
they flocked in to bid them farewell and to 
wish them a pleasant journey. 

The poorer class brought them presents as 
tokens of their friendship,— little pottery 
jugs and dishes, gayly painted; and baskets 
fashioned of finely split bamboo interwoven 
with bright worsted yarn, which were made 
by the prisoners in the jail at Tampico. 

One woman brought them a pair of tiny 
toy monkeys. Of what do you think they 
were made? They were carved from olive 
seeds by a prisoner at Vera Cruz, with no 
other tool than a sharpened nail. Tiny specks 
of black wax served as eyes, and the little 
monkeys were very natural and curious. 

A boy brought Earl a polished armadillo 
shell, and a fisherman brought mother the 
sword of a sawfish. “You were kind to my 
little Natalie,” the man said, “and her heart 
is sad because you are leaving. I want you 
to remember us when you see the sword.” 

( 69 ) 








The Mexican Hat and Basket Peddler 


( 70 ) 


i 


ft 



















Keepsakes 


Mother thanked him, and told him that she 
would never forget her friends in Mexico. 
Her heart was sad, too, in having to leave. 

“I am glad to take this particular sword 
home with me,” she explained to the fisher¬ 
man. “I fear that my friends in the United 
States might not believe my fish story if I did 
not have the sword as proof. You remember 
the story of it, don’t you?” she said, turning 
to the children. 

“Oh, tell us! Tell us!” 
they chorused in a breath. 

“Well, once as grand¬ 
ma and I were crossing 
the broad, deep Tuxpam 
River in a rowboat,” she 
said, “our oarsman told 
us to sit very still, for the 
river was rough. Sud¬ 
denly there was a splash. 

A huge, dark form hurled 
itself through the air, and 
struck at my side with a 
thump, then fell back into 
the water. I had but a 
glimpse of the terrible- 

° . j Bringing a present as 

looking sword. token of her friendship. 


72 Stones from Manana Land 

“When we reached the shore, we found 
that the dent in the boat where the fish had 
struck was but one inch from the top of the 



boat, directly at my side. Evidently the fish 
had aimed his sword at me. 

“Soon after, this same sawfish was caught, 
though it made a brave fight. We were sure 
that it was the same one, for it had broken 
off two teeth where it struck the canoe. See 
how ugly it is,” she said, holding up the long, 









73 


Keepsakes 

bony projection. It was broad at the base, 
but only about an inch wide at the point. 

“Let’s see how long it is,” mother proposed. 
“Why, it’s three and one half feet long! Feel 
how strong and sharp the big, bony teeth on 
each side are. It surely would have killed 
me if it had struck as it intended. 

“This gift that the fisherman has brought 
me is a sign of the care of a loving heavenly 
Father,” mother concluded gratefully. 



San Francisco Church, Guadala¬ 
jara, Mexico 




What Mother Left Her Friends 


The dear Mexican friends were not the 
only ones who wished to give something. The 
many keepsakes they brought were signs of 
loving hearts; and Mother Wesley had a 
loving heart, too. She longed to leave her 
friends something that would remind them 
of her. She wanted it to be a real help to 
them; and as she thought it over, a plan 
flashed into her head. 

“I want to give some little token to Dona 
Ermenia’s girls, they have been so kind to us. 
I wonder if they would like one of the little 
Gospels,” she asked grandmother. 

“I am sure they would,” replied the latter. 
“You know how they seemed to treasure the 
Bible we persuaded them to buy.” 

So mother wrote in Spanish on the flyleaf 
of the Gospel of St. John: “To my friend 
Carmen Dominguez. ‘Remember now thy 
Creator in the days of thy youth.’ Eccl. 
12:1. ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life.’ 
‘If ye love Me, keep My commandments.’ 
John 14:6, 15. May you ever love this, the 
word of God.” 


( 74 ) 


What Mother Left Her Friends 75 

When she took them the books, they 
thanked mother again and again: “Mil gra- 
ciaSj senora” they said. “We shall always 
remember you when we look at your parting 
gift.” 

“I should be pleased to think you remem¬ 
ber me,” answered mother. “But I wish you 
to read these little Gospels carefully, and you 
will learn to love the words of truth and right¬ 
eousness they contain.” 

“Senora, would you kindly write in my 
little blank book the words of a song my 
brother heard at your house last evening?” 
asked one of the girls. “He said that per¬ 
haps you were having meeting, because the 
songs were about Jesus.” 

Mother was very glad to write for her the 
words of “Jesus, Lover of My Soul,” in 
Spanish. So mother left in the hearts of her 
Mexican friends the seeds of truth. 


/ 


t 



V 



( 76 ) 






t 











On the Way 

Mother, Bernice, Earl, and Lucita, all at 
last were off for Tampico in a farm wagon 
owned by an American neighbor. 

They soon reached Tampico Alto, where 
they paused to look down over the blue waters 
of the Gulf of Mexico. They could see the 
steamers passing the lighthouse and entering 
the Panuco River, and others approaching 
the city of Tampico. Nearer to them, parts 
of the road lined with natives, some on horse¬ 
back or burros, others in creaking oxcarts, 
most of them on foot, all formed a part of 
the picture. 

“I wonder what those burros are loaded 
with!” exclaimed Lucita, as they neared a 
number of these patient little beasts heavily 
laden with what appeared to be roots and 
tevigo . 

The driver answered: “Why, that is sarsa¬ 
parilla. It grows very plentifully here. It 
is shipped to the United States to be made 
into medicine.” 

These were followed by long trains of bur¬ 
ros loaded with corn, and driven by Indians, 
whose dress consisted of white, loose trousers 

( 77 ) 



A Mexican Soldier 


( 78 ) 














79 


On the Way 

and shirts. Each Indian carried over one 
shoulder his constant companion, a blanket, 
which usually has a slit in the center to put 
the head through, leaving half the blanket 
in front, and half behind. 

“How erect those women walk with those 
heavy water jugs on their heads!” remarked 
Bernice. “They don’t pay any attention at 
all to those big jars, filled to the brim, but 
walk briskly along, and laugh and talk as 
much as though they carried nothing. And 
see — in addition to the water, one is carrying 
a fat little brown baby. See the baby smile 
as we say e Adios / she whispered.” 

“Well, did you ever see such a curious man¬ 
ner of moving?” questioned mother, as she 
nodded to a family coming toward them. 

The Mexican mother led the way, with a 
large bundle of clothing on her head, a baby 
on one arm, and a basket of pottery ware on 
the other, while a little toddler clung to her 
skirts. A little girl, laden with a red blanket 
and a straw mat (in all probability their bed), 
was driving a grunting pig. A small boy was 
leading a goat, the kid bleating along behind. 
Upon the boy’s head were three wide-rimmed, 
pointed hats, regular Mexican sombreros. 


80 Stories from Manana Land 

“Why does that boy wear more than one 
sombrero?” cried Earl. “This one is all I can 
hold my head up straight under,” touching 
the new sombrero upon his head. 

“These poor people have no bandboxes or 
trunks to carry their hats in, so they think it 



A Native Carrying Wood 







81 


On the Way 

is the safest plan to put them on their heads, 
even if they do make a top-heavy load,” ex¬ 
plained mother. 

“This lad has his old hat below, and above 
that his new one, and on top is a much larger 
one,” she added. 

“I suppose that belongs to his father,” sug¬ 
gested Earl. “There he comes now. What 
do you suppose he has on his back?” 

“Why, that is a sewing machine, securely 
fastened and held in place by a leather band 
across his forehead,” answered mother. 

“Oh, I wish we were going the same way as 
they!” cried sympathetic Earl, “and then we 
could help them with their heavy loads.”’ 

“They need our help in more ways than 
one,” responded mother. “No doubt if you 
were to ask them, you would find several little 
images in their possession, and various medals 
that they believe are blessed, and therefore 
holy.” 

“If we could only teach them to look to 
Jesus as Saviour!” exclaimed Bernice. 

“Of course, only the poor and ignorant 
worship images,” ventured Earl again. 

But his mother replied: “Do you remember 
my visit to the wealthy Senora Perez? She 

6 


82 Stories from Manana Land 

asked me to go into the sick-room of her little 
Gracia one day. There upon the foot of the 
bed was a small cradle, containing a doll, per¬ 
haps eighteen inches long, richly dressed. 
They call this the Christ-child, and have great 
faith in its power to heal. 

“The senora reverently took in her hand a 
gold locket that hung on Gracia’s neck. 
Opening it, she showed me what appeared to 
be a few ravelings. ‘These,’ she explained, 
‘are a few threads from St. Peter’s robe. 
They were sent to me directly from Rome,’ 
and she pressed the locket to her lips, and 
bade the child do the same. 

“In that beautiful home, I saw a candle 
kept burning before an image. They had a 
large library, but not one copy of God’s word 
was there. The senora was interested in my 
Bible, and said that the pope had given per¬ 
mission to read it, but that she did not possess 
one, because the priests did not approve of 
the reading of the Bible by the people in their 
homes, and she did not wish to offend them.” 

“The idea! I would show them that they 
could not keep me from having a Bible of 
my own,” cried Earl. 


83 


On the Way 

“Children, have we not cause to praise our 
heavenly Father that we are allowed to have 
His holy book, and can enjoy its counsel and 
follow its precepts? We should study much, 
and have the precious promises hidden in our 
hearts; for we may not always have the Bible 
to study.” 


By the Roadside 



Cochineal 


At mother’s request, the driver stopped the 
team near a grove of wild lemons, and the 
children filled a basket with the juicy, yellow 
fruit. 

“Children,” called mother, “do come and 
look at this cactus! Do you see anything 
unusual?” 

“Not at all. It is just a common, prickly 
cactus fence, such as we see on all sides in 
Mexico,” responded Earl. 

“Look closely at this leaf,” said mother. 
“Do you not see those tiny, whitish specks?” 

“Oh, yes! They look like scale of some 
sort,” said Bernice disgustedly. 

“I do not suppose you would draw any 
comparison between Lucita’s red dress and 
these little specks, would you?” asked mother. 

The children looked blank for a moment. 
Suddenly Earl’s face brightened. “Oh, now 
I know, mother! It is the insect used for 
coloring. You call it coch— coch— 

“Cochineal,” suggested mother. “Yes, 
these are the cochineal insects employed in 
dyeing scarlet and crimson. Cochineal is 
made of the bodies of these tiny insects. 

( 84 ) 


Cochineal 


85 


“The cochineal is a very small creature. A 
pound of the dried insects is calculated to 
contain seventy thousand. The male is a 
deep red color, and has white wings. The 
female has no wings, and is a dark brown 
color, covered with a white powder.” 

“I should not like the task of gathering 
them. Do you know how they do it, mother?” 
asked Lucita. 

“Yes; the gathering is very tedious. They 
are killed by boiling water or by heating in 
ovens. The natives then brush the insects off 
the branches with the tail of a squirrel.” 

“Very few would want to spend their time 
gathering bugs,” said Bernice. 

“It certainly would not be an idle employ¬ 
ment, for I read that the cochineal is one of 
the most important exports of Mexico. But 
we must be off, or we shall be late in reach¬ 
ing Tampico.” 



Cochineal 

Cactus 


Ready for the Train 

Before long, they reached the crest of the 
last hill. Spread out before them was an¬ 
other beautiful sight. Down below, nestling 
at the foot of the hill, on the banks of the 
lake, was the town of Pueblo Viejo. This 
is said to be one of the first settlements in 
Mexico. Across the lake to the north was 
the city of Tampico, situated on the banks of 
the broad Panuco River. 

Down through the streets of Pueblo Viejo, 
they rattled over the cobblestones. Appar¬ 
ently the whole village came out to see the 
strangers; for the cry was heard on all sides, 
“AM van los Americanos ” 

When the Wesleys drew up at the boat 
landing, they were immediately besieged by 
a crowd of boatmen, each telling in loud tones 
the merits of his own boat. There were steam 
launches, rowboats, sailboats, and cedar ca¬ 
noes. The children, however, were partial 
to the latter; so, after much talking, they 
finally chose a broad, comfortable canoe, and 
before long were all safely seated and on their 
way. The passage across the lake and river 
took about two hours. 

( 86 ) 


87 


Ready for the Train 

Arriving in Tampico, they went to the 
house of a friend, and prepared to leave early 
the next morning. First they visited the 
market for the fruit to take on their way. 
The market was an immense house divided up 
into numerous stalls, in which every sort of 
eatable, as well as baskets, hats, and pottery 
ware, were for sale. 

“Oh, we must have mangoes,” cried Earl. 
“I don’t suppose I shall ever see any again, 
and they are so delicious!” 

“Yes, and pineapples and sapotes,” added 
Bernice, “and bananas and oranges, and—” 

“Stay!” said mother. “I can only fill this 
basket; while if we carried away all we cared 
for of these delicious tropical fruits, I should 
have to charter a car.” 



Market Day 







Homeward Bound 


The hearts of our missionary family were 
filled with sadness as the train bore them 
swiftly away from Tampico. Past the long 
wharves, where lay boats flying the flags of 
nearly every nation, they sped. 

“ Good-by to our missionary work on the 
boats!” Earl said. 

“There is the Sinaloa!” shouted Bernice 
excitedly. “How often we have been on 
board with our papers and tracts, and how 
interested some of them became in the study 
of the Bible! We sold them several, too, and 
they always welcomed us gladly. How they 
would rush to the side of the steamer when 
they saw us coming! We could hear them 
telling each other that la americana, the 
Bible-woman, was coming again.” 

Several boats were steaming up the river. 
“Oh, there is the St. Thomas!” said mother, 
pointing out the window. “Do you remem¬ 
ber, children, when we went on board the 
last time? It is a Danish ship, and the 
sailors were so pleased to receive the litera¬ 
ture in their own tongue! 

( 88 ) 


Homeward Bound 


89 


“And do you remember the young-looking 
sailor who told us of his home, and that he 
hoped to return to see his mother soon, after 
being away three years? He said that his 
mother loved the Lord, and had given him a 
Bible when he left home, and he had carried 
it with him in all his travels.” 

“Oh, yes!” said Bernice. “You asked him 
if he read it often, and he said that he didn’t 
read it as often as he should, but that he 
would read it oftener since you asked him to 
do so.” 

“Yes, children,” mother assented, “we 
know that the Lord has blessed the work done 
in His name among the seafaring people. 
We shall pray that He will touch the hearts 
of some consecrated Christians to come to 
Tampico and help grandfather and grand¬ 
mother continue the work here, now that we 
must leave them to hold the fort alone.” 

Reaching Monterey, the little family found 
that they had to stay over two days; so they 
were glad to accept the invitation of a friend 
to visit the famous Topo Chico Hot Springs. 

They took the street car, drawn by three 
mules, at the plaza, and were soon hurrying 
through the city, out into the country, past 



( 90 ) 






















IIomeward Boun d 


91 


beautiful modern cottages and green fields 
of corn. The way led to the foot of a tower¬ 
ing mountain. There, near a cool, pleasant 
park, they found the springs. 

There were many small bathrooms and a 
large swimming-tank for tjiose who wished 
to bathe. 4 ‘The water from these springs is 
considered very healthful, and a great many 
bottles are shipped away,” explained the 
owner. 

On the journey back, the little mules be¬ 
came balky and refused to travel. The driver 
and the conductor did not seem to think it a 
matter worthy of much consideration; for 
after a few attempts to start the balky mules, 
they seated themselves comfortably, and, 
lighting their cigarettes, entered into a lively 
conversation. Mother and the children walked 
on, picking wild flowers, and enjoying the 
scenery, until overtaken by the belated car. 


The United States at Last 


Finally the travelers arrived at Laredo, on 
the Rio Grande, where they passed through 
the customhouse and had their baggage in¬ 
spected. 

“Good-by to Mexico, ‘the Land of Ma¬ 
nana,’ ” said Lucita, taking a long breath. 

“We are really on our own native soil once 
more,” exclaimed Bernice; “but things look 
the same here as in Mexico.” 

“Yes,” laughed mother; “we are not far 
enough north to notice much change. I trust 
that here in the United States we shall no¬ 
tice this one difference — that the United 
States is the land of to-day, and we have left 
behind us ‘the Land of Manana.’ ” 



( 92 ) 




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